Author: Dothraki_Shieldmaiden (@dothwrites)
Artist: BoeyBite (@boeybite)
No Major Archive Warnings
Tags: Genderqueer Castiel, Gender Questioning Dean, Bisexual Dean, Panty Kink, Castiel in dresses, Dean in dresses, self-discovery, Gender Roles (and the lack thereof), mentions of domestic/physical violence, internalized homophobia,
Summary:
'Bisexual' is an identity that Dean Winchester is only just becoming comfortable with when he meets Castiel Novak. Fortunately, Cas is hot, smart, and enthralling enough to make Dean forget all about panicking over dating his first man.
Dating Cas, however, forces Dean to confront his own identity and fears in ways he never anticipated.
Preview:
Dean is saved from being trampled by his runaway thoughts by Cas’ hand gently cupping his cheek. “Dean,” Cas says, kinder than anyone has a right to be. “It’s okay. You don’t have to panic or pretend. You’re safe here.”
Cas says that, but Dean can’t force himself to believe it. His father’s voice echoes in his mind, deriding Dean for sketching when he was bored, for picking a soft pink top. “Put that shit away,” John says in his memory, “you’re not some damn pansy.”
Dean swallows at the kick of remembered shame and repressed anger. Never two emotions that go well together, they mingle in his gut like curdled milk on top of hot sauce.
“Dean,” Cas says again, somehow managing to turn his name into a caress. His thumb sweeps over Dean’s skin. His thumb, with its bright blue, sparkly nail. It’s so smooth. Dean knows that if he were to put his lips over the painted nail that they would just skate over, smooth as silk over glass.
“Do you want me to paint your nails?”
Something tight and uncomfortable clenches around Dean’s throat. Over thirty years of repression proves a difficult thing to breathe around.
In the end, Dean can only nod.
“Okay,” Cas says, easy as if this happens every day. His hand pulls away from Dean’s face, leaving his skin cold, and Dean whines in discontent. The clinking sound of glass against glass heralds Cas’ return, however, and he sits down on the mattress. He holds two foam toe separators in his hand and gestures down towards Dean’s feet. “Do you mind?” he asks.
Dean shakes his head. He breathes deep and even to control himself as Cas picks up his feet and gently works his toes between the cheap foam. It’s far from the most intimate touch they’ve shared — Cas’ fingers and cock have been up Dean’s ass for Christ’s sake — yet this feels more momentous than even that. Like Dean is taking a step and no matter what he does, he can’t undo it.
Then he sees Cas’ nail polish reflected in the lamplight and thinks about how Cas navigates his life. How Cas wears what he wants, when he wants, and how he isn’t afraid of anything. How comfortable he looks as he moves around Dean’s house in his yoga pants or in one of his dresses. The simple smile on Cas’ face when Dean tells him, perfectly honestly, that he looks pretty.
Dean wants…
He wants to be pretty too.
